


Blood Moon

by xxxillusionxxx



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, M/M, Mates, Scott and Stiles Brotp for life yo, vampire!Stiles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-01-20 02:13:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1492906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxillusionxxx/pseuds/xxxillusionxxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles stood outside of his new school. He had his notebooks and his gym clothes stuffed into his Captain America backpack, he wore his favorite red hoodie, and he had spent the night before studying all of his junior year material. </p><p>Stiles was ready to finally start his senior year of high school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is unbeta'd. If you like this story and you like beta-reading, please message me on tumblr. Otherwise, hope you enjoy it anyway!

_It was a muggy summer night only two years and countless bottles of alcohol after the sudden and unexpected death of his parents; only two years since he had been left alone in the world. He had been drunk, as usual, and making out with his older boyfriend. It wasn’t until sharp teeth sunk into his skin that first time and he felt a lethal amount of blood leave his body that he realized that he wasn’t exactly human._

_The first decade wasn’t horrible. Stiles hated Dimitri with every fiber of his being, but he stayed with him because he didn’t know how else to survive. He had flings on the side. Dimitri knew about them, had some himself, but as soon as he thought Stiles was getting too attached they’d suddenly turn up dead and Dimitri would announce that it was time to move on._

_The second decade involved a lot of studying. Dimitri was careful never to give Stiles too much information about what he was lest he lose his dependence. It took over ten years to accumulate enough information in secret to start planning._

_Stiles spent five years convincing Dimitri to combine their bank accounts. Another three years to allay Dimitri’s suspicion and then it was done._

****  
Stiles stood outside of his new school. He had his notebooks and his gym clothes stuffed into his Captain America backpack, he wore his favorite red hoodie, and he had spent the night before studying all of his junior year material. 

Stiles was ready to finally start his senior year of high school. 

He started up the stairs but was bowled over by a group of jocks who ran up behind him. He caught himself at the last second, but felt a layer of skin shred off of his palms. One of the jocks turned around to see if he was ok but the rest kept walking as if they hadn’t just knocked someone down onto a set of stairs made of pure cement. 

“Are you ok?” A voice behind him asked. 

Stiles looked up at a dark skinned boy whose face was scrunched with genuine concern. Stiles chuckled and accepted the hand offered to him. 

“Yeah I’m fine. It figures that I couldn’t even make a normal entrance on my first day of school,” he said, laughing. 

“Are you new?” the boy asked, a valid question considering it was already about halfway through the school year. 

“Uh, yeah. Stiles,” he replied, extending his hand, his palms already healed.

“Scott. Do you need help finding your classes?” Scott asked, shaking his hand. 

Stiles shrugged. He had scoped out the school a few nights ago to identify temporary hideouts and nooks where he could store extra blood should he need them so he knew where he was going, but it didn’t hurt to make a new friend. 

“Yeah, that would be awesome actually,” he said, following Scott as he made his way into the school. 

It turned out that they were actually in most of the same classes. They spent the entire day passing notes and chatting between classes and by the time the final bell rang, Stiles felt like he had a new best friend. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come over for pizza today? You could meet some new people, all of whom I can vouch for as being pretty chill. Well, except for Derek but he’s a good guy deep down,” Scott said as they got to the parking lot after classes let out. 

Stiles shook his head and smacked Scott affectionately on the arm.

“Maybe next time. I have some stuff I have to finish today,” he said simply.

Scott made him promise that he would go next time before speeding off on his motorcycle. Stiles headed over to his beat up old jeep and drove away from the school. He thought about going right back to his the small studio apartment that he was renting, but at the last minute turned down a road he hadn’t been on in over thirty years. 

The graveyard was quiet when he got there, empty but for one mourning family member all the way on the other side of the field. It felt like sacrilege to step foot in this hallowed place. Even though he had cleaned up his act and was trying to start over again he felt dirty and ashamed as he walked up to the familiar pair of headstones. 

Stiles had left the day after he turned with Dimitri. It took him a long time to realize how abusive their relationship was and even longer still to find a way to kill him for good. But he did. And he was back for the first time in decades.

Everything seemed so different now. There were more stores, more graves, more traffic, but he was somehow glad for the change. He feared that if everything had stayed stagnant while he was gone he would simply fall back into bad habits. 

He left the graveyard with a promise to try his best with this second chance at life that he was taking. As he passed through the elegant iron gates, someone grabbed his arm and he almost jumped out of his skin. 

“Holy shit, dude! What the fuck I almost had a heart attack,” he said, holding his hand to his chest out of habit though he had no heartbeat. 

The man stared at him suspiciously, looking him up and down before taking a step back. Stiles was struck by the irony that it was the mystery man covered in black leather and not the vampire. 

“Sorry, I just heard something strange,” the man said. 

Stiles waited for him to elaborate, even going so far as to gesture for him to continue but he just stared silently at him, frowning. 

“Okay, well I’m just going to go then…” he said, backing away slowly. 

The man scowled but didn’t follow him or say anything else so Stiles walked quickly to his car and got the hell out of there. 

**** 

Stiles wasn’t proud of how he got his dinner, but if he wanted to keep on the down low, it was a necessary evil. 

He snuck past a second nurse with practiced ease, slipping into the cool, sterile room containing all of the blood bags for the hospital. 

He was careful to only take a few, enough to last him through the next two weeks. Next time he would hit a different hospital so that they wouldn’t notice that all their blood was going missing. He walked right out with his small cooler and a white coat, nodding to the people rushing to and fro. 

He high-fived himself when he got into his jeep, still proud to be able to sneak past the gullible security that hospitals typical boasted. 

Back at his apartment he paused, hair standing on end. He looked across the street curiously and almost yelped when he noticed the pair of glowing yellow eyes at the edge of the tree line. He started towards the dark figure, wondering what it could possibly be, but it was gone before he could even cross the street.

Frowning, Stiles turned back to the building and headed up to his apartment. He deposited the bags in his fridge before plopping down on the couch. 

He sighed and turned his laptop on, pulling out his notebooks. The one thing he hadn’t missed about high school was homework. Still, it needed to be done so he spent the better part of two hours translating sentences into Spanish and figuring out what the hell calculus was supposed to be about. 

**** 

The next day at school Scott introduced him to Lydia Martin and Allison Argent. Both girls gave him icy stares and Stiles made awkward conversation for a few minutes before escaping, telling a disappointed Scott that he would see him in chemistry. 

Chemistry didn’t go much better. The teacher, Harris, immediately decided that he didn’t like Stiles’s attitude and set about making his life a living hell. He got detention for yawning too much. How does that even make sense?

The only bright side was that Scott got detention almost immediately after when he leaned over to say how ridiculous that was so at least he would have company. 

They passed detention passing notes under the table. 

_Do you want to come watch movies with me and the girls and a few of our friends tomorrow night?_

Stiles cringed internally at the idea of sitting with Lydia and Allison judging him for existing. 

_Idk. They didn’t seem to like me very much._

_They’re like that with everyone at first! Don’t worry man, you’ll have fun. And you promised, remember?_

Stiles wanted to slam his head on the table but didn’t think that drawing attention to himself would work in his favor at the moment. 

_Ugh fine. What time?_

Scott made a noise of joy and Harris slammed a ruler down on his desk. 

“Do I need to send one of you to another room?” he asked calmly, a cold hatred on his face that seemed entirely unwarranted. 

Stiles and Scott were silent, looking down at their desks until Harris looked back at his book, then rolling their eyes and spending the rest of the hour making faces until Harris glared up from his book, continuing as soon as his attention was diverted. 

**** 

Stiles was more nervous the next day than he thought he would be. He went through his whole closet looking for something presentable to wear and came up with nothing. He pondered his small pile of tattered hoodies and flannel before figuring screw it and going to the mall.

The problem with his plan was that Stiles was not so adept at fashion. Dimitri always bought him clothing when he was alive and after he died, Stiles had bought only t-shirts and flannel to spite his memory. 

Going to meet Scott’s whole group of friends, though? He really wanted something a little nicer than old flannel. 

He stared at a rack of sweaters blankly. Why did it come in so many colors? He picked up a random sweater and held it up to himself, unsure of what to do next. 

“I think you’re a tad too pale for that color,” someone said behind him. 

Stiles spun around, about to take offense only to freeze and feel his stomach flutter when he got a look at the man. He opened his mouth to reply when an amazing smell hit him like a ton of bricks. It was blood, but it was different, infused with lilac and something very earthy.

The scent was so thick that he could almost taste it sliding down his throat.

“Well, you’re very forward.”

Stiles snapped his eyes open, not even remembering closing them. The man’s face was inches from his own, his blue eyes glimmering with humor. Stiles backed away quickly; sure he would have been red as a tomato if he had more blood in his system. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I just…your cologne, it smells…um good,” he stuttered out. 

The man smirked and picked up a maroon sweater, swapping it for the one in Stiles’s hands. 

“I think red is more your color,” he said.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Stiles said.

A long pause stretched between them but the man didn’t move away or break eye contact. 

“Um, I’m Stiles,” he said when he couldn’t take the tension anymore. 

“Hello, Stiles. My name is Peter,” the man said, reaching a hand out which Stiles shook quickly. 

Peter didn’t let go right away though, his fingers brushing lightly against Stiles’s knuckle.

“So Stiles, I take it you don’t shop very often?” Peter asked.

Stiles shook his head, still trying not to drool over the picture that Peter made in a tight leather jacket and dark washed jeans that hugged his thighs perfectly. He was exactly the type that Stiles typically went for: mature, hot, and confident. God he hoped he wasn’t married. 

“Maybe I can help you pick a few things? What exactly are you looking for?” Peter asked. 

“Just a few things. Some shirts and pants and stuff,” Stiles said, regretting his ineptitude at shopping.

“Hmm, well, I can probably work with that,” Peter said with a toothy grin before he grabbed Stiles’s hand and headed deeper into the men’s department. 

Stiles tolerated a whole hour of shopping, half of which was spent in the dressing room modeling outfits for Peter, only because standing next to Peter made his whole body feel warm and alert. And the smell! He figured out that it was coming from Peter pretty quickly, but he didn’t know what to do about it because sniffing strangers wasn’t really socially acceptable. 

When Stiles bought himself a sizable amount of clothing, Peter walked him all the way out to his car. When he got there he hesitated, not wanting to leave just yet. As if reading his mind, Peter squeezed his hand and brought his knuckles to his lips. 

Stiles stared at Peter, feeling lost in his bright eyes for a long moment before he dropped his bag and threw his arms around Peter’s neck, kissing him quickly. Peter immediately wrapped his arms around Stiles, sliding one hand into Stiles’s hair and pulling their bodies closer together. 

At some point Stiles felt his back hit his jeep and he grunted into their kiss. When he felt Peter’s thigh press into his hard-on he suddenly became aware of the fact that he was making out with a random man in the middle of the parking lot.  
“Wait! Wait, wait,” Stiles said breathily, pressing gently at Peter’s chest until there was some space between them. Peter looked confused until Stiles pulled open the back door of his jeep, throwing his bag onto the floor and sliding across to lean against the opposite door. 

Stiles smirked and made grabby hands until Peter climbed into the car after him, smiling as he closed the door behind him. Peter crawled over him and sealed their lips together one more, licking at his lips and teeth as he slid his hands up his shirt. 

Stiles shivered then tensed, turning his head to the side and encouraging Peter to kiss his neck with his hand. He felt his fangs growing longer and his eyes growing black. He gasped at the overload of horniness and panic welling up in his system.

Stiles had _never_ lost control like this before. Not even when he was freshly turned. He closed his eyes and focused until he felt his face morph back. Of course, that was when he noticed that his shirt was pushed up and Peter was kissing down his stomach. 

He groaned when Peter sat up until he started undoing his belt. Stiles quickly followed suit, pulling his jeans down enough that he could pull out his dick, wet with precum. Peter pressed his body back down and wrapped his hand around both of them, pumping deliciously and pressing light and deep kisses to Stiles’s lips until Stiles was only panting against his lips.

“Peter…I’m going to…” Stiles said just before his orgasm washed over him.

He slumped against the foggy window, catching his breath and enjoying the aftershocks. He felt Peter stiffen and his eyes shot up to watch the blissed-out expression on Peter’s expression as he blew white stripes across Stiles’s stomach. 

He stayed perched over Stiles for a few minutes, probably to avoid covering his clothing in cum, all the while kissing Stiles lazily. When he pulled away, Stiles almost wanted to grab him and pull him back, but knew that if he did that then there was no way he could stop himself from biting him. 

Stiles fixed up his clothes, pulling his shirt down right over the cum drying on his stomach and slid out of the car after Peter, who looked just as put-together as before. Peter smirked down at Stiles’s shirt before holding his hand out. 

Stiles stared at his hand confused for a few seconds before Peter sighed. 

“Your phone, please,” he said.

“Oh, uh, right,” Stiles said, pulling his cell out of his pocket and handing it over. 

Peter typed in his contact and presumably sent a text to himself before handing the phone back. 

“I’ll be seeing you around, I’m sure. It was wonderful to meet you,” Peter said, winking before strolling across the parking lot. 

Stiles watched him go, both confused and thrilled by what just happened. They didn’t even do much and that was the most intense sex he’d had in years. He couldn’t imagine what more would be like. 

He mentally shook himself, reminding himself that he was supposed to be focusing on school and friends, not relationships. He hopped into his jeep and headed home. If he breathed the lingering smell in a little bit deeper than normal and beat off to it as soon as he got back to his apartment, well, no one needed to know. 

**** 

Stiles stood nervously outside of the apartment building that Scott had given him directions to. After a good, long shower Stiles had pulled on the maroon sweater that Peter picked out and a pair of fitted jeans and headed right over. 

He wasn’t sure if he should have brought food or not, but because he was running so late due to his run-in with Peter, he opted to just show up empty-handed and hope for the best. He texted Scott to let him know that he was outside and waited with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey man! I’m glad you made it!” Scott called from the door, holding it opened until Stiles followed him inside. 

Scott chattered the whole way up to the sixth floor, but Stiles was too nervous to really take it in. He had never been in big groups of people his own age—well, the age he looked—before. 

When they finally reached the door, Stiles realized that he literally wasn’t breathing and took in a few breaths so that he didn’t look too still. Scott walked right in and Stiles followed, smiling hesitantly at the group of people who turned to look at him. 

Stiles was immediately struck by the fact that the apartment reeked of wet dog. He looked around, trying to find signs of pets but finding nothing in the Spartan-looking living space. The next thing that caught his attention was a mouthwatering smell that he had just recently become intimately familiar with. 

His head snapped to the corner where he could just make out Peter lurking in the shadows. He raised his eyebrows, about to say something when Scott spoke for him. 

“Hey guys, this is Stiles. Stiles, this is Erica, Boyd,” he said, pointing a blonde bombshell holding hands with a solemn looking black man, “Allison, and Lydia you know,” the two didn’t even look up at him, “Isaac and Derek,” he gestured to a rough looking youth and…the man he had met at the cemetery. What? “Oh and Derek’s Uncle Peter,” he added quickly as an afterthought. 

Stiles waved awkwardly, unsure of what else to do, especially since he had apparently slept with the apartment owner’s uncle. 

No one said anything. The tension was palpable and the hairs on Stiles’s neck slowly rose as he realized the tense, aggressive positions that some of the group had shifted into. 

“Um, you know what? I’m just gonna go…” Stiles said, starting toward the door. 

Just as Scott was voicing his protest, Isaac rushed past Stiles and stood in front of the door with his arms crossed. Stiles dropped his jaw, staring dumbly at the petulant teenager.

“Isaac, chill out,” Scott said pleadingly. 

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Stiles said, barely suppressing the crackle that crept into his voice when he was close to shifting. 

Isaac didn’t move, instead crouching into an animalistic stance as his face completely morphed, his features becoming wolfish and his eyes glowing yellow. 

Stiles took a step back in surprise. 

“Oh my god, a werewolf? Really? God, at least now the smell in here makes sense…” Stiles started before stiffening and ducking a moment too late as something struck his shoulder.

“Allison!” Scott shouted. 

Stiles ripped the arrow out of his body, his instincts taking over as his teeth grew and his vision sharped. He hissed back at the group behind him before moving out of the way of another arrow.

The faces around him looked shocked. So his movement was faster than they were used to, he supposed. Good. 

He ran into Isaac’s space, throwing him halfway across the room before the boy could even react. He glanced back at Scott one more time—he couldn’t even bring himself to look at Peter—before bolting down the hall, the stairs, and into the parking lot, driving faster than he had in years back to his apartment. 

Stiles’s inner predator had quieted about halfway back to his building, and that was when it all really hit him. The one person he had really connected with—god, he thought they were really friends—knew what he was, probably the whole time if the glowing eyes in the woods were any indication. And he had brought him back to his pack, for what? Just to kill him?

He threw his suitcase open on his bed and began throwing in the essentials. 

And Peter! He didn’t even want to think about what that was. Had he known the whole time? Had he hooked up with him with the full knowledge that they were going to kill him later that night?

Blood dripped onto his hand and he touched his cheek in surprise as his fingers came away bloody. He was crying? How pathetic was that? He couldn’t afford to lose blood like this, he barely drank enough to survive, and he certainly didn’t drink enough to cry it all out after getting shot in the back with a wooden arrow. 

Stiles took some of his new clothes without analyzing why too deeply. He couldn’t stop his tears until he had his suitcase packed and his blood packets stuffed in a small cooler in his backpack. He wiped his face with his still bloody shirt and pulled on an old t-shirt before abandoning the rest of his things and rushing out to his car. 

He had just slammed the trunk shut when he felt that he was not alone. 

“Stiles, wait,” Scott said, running up to him, blocking his way to the driver’s side. 

“Get out of my way!” Stiles hissed, not bothering to hide the crackle this time. 

Stiles expected Scott to turn, to attack him, to show him exactly how ridiculous Stiles’s second chance was, but he simply raised his hands slowly, palms up, and shook his head. 

“Stiles, please listen to me. I didn’t know that was going to happen. Peter talked to them, you don’t need to leave,” he said.  
“Bullshit!” Stiles practically screamed. 

He went to push his way past but Scott grabbed his arms and held him still. Surprisingly, Stiles couldn’t actually break his hold. It took him a long dizzying moment before he realized that Scott was holding him up. 

“What’s happening? Stiles, what’s wrong?” Scott asked, sounding panicked. 

Stiles touched his face with a shaky hand and cursed when he realized that he was crying again. Since when was he so weak?

His vision blurred and he slid down the side of his car, Scott following him down. 

“This is so fucked up. I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have come back,” Stiles said, talking more to himself than to Scott. 

He choked on a sob then laughed bitterly. 

“Stiles, tell me what to do. What should I do?” Scott asked desperately. 

Stiles ignored him, trying to pull himself up and drag himself to the trunk to get his blood. He almost didn’t realize that another pair of hands was on him until he was being laid down on the ground. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was Peter’s blurred face.


	2. Chapter 2

Thick warmth trickled down his throat. He sighed at the taste of it and drank deeply, calming the screaming ache in the pit of his belly with every swallow. 

The ringing in his ears quieted, slowly morphing into muffled shouts. 

Stiles wasn’t aware that his eyes were closed until he blinked them open, only then realizing that he was clinging to Peter’s arm, drinking blood from his torn wrist. 

He threw himself backward, his back hitting the tire of his Jeep, and stared in horror at the blood gushing from Peter’s wound. The man himself teetered on his knees, barely able to hold his upper body up. 

Stiles wiped his arm across his mouth and blinked at the blood clinging to fine hairs. If he had a heartbeat, he was sure it would be off the charts right now. 

“Stiles, wait,” Scott said quickly, picking up on his friend’s panic. 

Stiles shook his head and jumped to his feet, sickened by the sloshing fullness in his belly. He heard the two werewolves call his name but he ignored them, tearing into the woods with no destination in mind but knowing that he just had to get away. 

He didn’t think of anything, just focused on the pounding of his feet against packed dirt and leaves, dodging trees with ease as he put miles between himself and Beacon Hills. 

He stopped short at the edge of a deep ravine. He didn’t know how long he ran for but the sun was dipping below the horizon and he was so far from civilization that he couldn’t hear anything but the rush of water and the heartbeats of animals even when he strained his ears. 

He crouched in the dirt and held his head in his hands, trying to control his shaking. He had _never_ lost control like that. He was so careful to never let his blood get too low because he had seen what could happen, had seen piles of corpses left behind a vampiric spree. 

To think that Scott’s pack had tried to kill him because he was a monster and all he had managed to do was _prove them right_. 

Stiles punched the ground furiously, screaming his frustration to the wind. 

Maybe it would have been best to just let them dust him. Why was he even clinging to life anyway? His family was dead and he had lost any chances at normalcy when he let that douche bag, Dimitri, into his life. What did he have to live for? When it came down to it, he was really just a monster trying to play human. Who was he even kidding? 

Stiles looked down the ravine. Jumping wouldn’t kill him. It would probably just break his bones and drain the blood he had ingested, sending him into another frenzy. 

He fell back into the dirt and stared up at the shadowy treetop, still perfectly clear to him in the darkness. He lost track of time and was startled out of his swirling thoughts by the sound of a heartbeat moving closer. 

He sat up and whipped around, looking for whatever animal was stupid enough to approach him right now. He blinked in confusion when a large grey wolf stepped into his small clearing. He didn’t put two and two together until a familiar scent hit him. 

“Peter? What are you...wait...werewolves literally turn into wolves?” he asked in awe.

Despite his self-hatred, Stiles couldn’t help but let his curiosity get the better of him. He had reached out to touch the wolf before remembering _who_ in fact was sitting in front of him. 

He pulled his hand back like he had been burned and looked down at the ground, unwilling to meet bright blue eyes.

“If you’re here to tear my throat out or whatever, I just want to say that I’m really sorry. I don’t usually lose control like that,” he said.

The wolf made a strange chuffing noise before shifting into a very naked Peter Hale. Stiles felt his blush—having enough blood for it this time—but couldn’t help staring wide-eyed at the man. 

“First of all, if you were truly sorry, you would have stayed a little closer to Beacon Hills. Scott almost ran himself into a coma trying to follow you,”

Stiles opened his mouth to speak and Peter raised a hand to silence him. 

“Second, if you had waited a moment before running off like a bat out of hell, you would have realized that I was _fine_ and that if anything it was chasing after you that did the real damage to my system,” he said. 

Stiles stared up at Peter in confusion. 

“But why did you follow me?” he asked. 

Peter rolled his eyes and plopped down next to Stiles.

“I was worried, obviously,” he said simply. 

“But you don’t really know me,” Stiles said helplessly. 

Peter was silent, staring off into the woods. 

“Scott really didn’t think the pack would react that way. He’s devastated that you got hurt,” he said instead of answering. 

Stiles looked down at his hands. 

“So you knew what I was the whole time? And, what, you were seeing if I was a threat to your pack or something?” he asked. 

Peter snorted. 

“You might say that I’m...the black sheep of the group. They don’t trust me—as well they shouldn’t—and I stay with them because it benefits me. You could have been a blood-thirsty villain out to kill them all and I doubt I would even lift a finger in their defense,” he said.

Stiles stared at the man, more confused than he was before. 

“So why did you approach me in the first place?” he asked.

“I have my reasons. And you did seem to be struggling,” Peter said before tilting his head, his eyes going distant, “Ah, I believe Scott’s finally caught up.”

Stiles was about to berate Peter for avoiding his question when Scott came crashing through the thicket, leaning over his knees to catch his breath. 

“Stiles...why couldn’t you have locked yourself in your house or something? I don’t think I’ve ever run that far in my life,” he said, collapsing onto his back in the dirt, “I don’t even have the energy to apologize properly.” he whined.

Stiles looked at him through narrowed eyes, glancing quickly at Peter. 

“So you knew what I was the whole time too?” he asked. 

Scott shook his head.

“I figured it out later. But it doesn’t matter to me. I mean, I’m a werewolf so I shouldn’t be throwing stones,” he said, laughing breathlessly. 

Stiles felt the edges of his lips curl up involuntarily. It was hard to stay mad at Scott; he was like a little ball of sunshine. 

“Ok, I forgive you for almost walking me into my death,” Stiles said after a moment. 

“I’ll admit, I misjudged that a little bit. It’s all on me. So can we still be bros?” Scott asked, looking at Stiles with sad puppy eyes. 

Stiles wondered how he managed to look so cute with mutton chops.

“I guess. If you wash my Jeep and carry my books for a week,” he said with a smile. 

Scott threw his arms in the air in victory, still too lazy to stand. 

“Can you, like, carry me back? Can I be your spider monkey please?” he asked.

Stiles snorted.

“I can’t believe you watched that movie,” he said. 

“The fact that you know what I’m talking about means that you did too and that’s even more embarrassing for you because you’re a vampire. Tell me, do you really sparkle in the sun?” Scott asked laughing. 

Stiles let his face grow solemn.

“Not if I wear sunblock,” he said seriously. 

Peter chuckled softly but Scott stared at him.

“You’re joking, right? You’re not being serious? Because I can’t go by your non-existent heartbeat so…” 

Stiles stood up and stretched his arms, feeling more energized than he had in years with fresh blood flowing through his veins. 

“Let’s get back. I don’t want to miss Vikings,” he said, walking past Peter and Scott. 

Peter shifted back into a wolf and Scott groaned loudly. Stiles heard something about stupid shiny assholes before he took off in the direction of town. He lost track of the two heartbeats after a few minutes and preened at the fact that he was faster than a werewolf. 

When Peter and Scott made it back to his apartment, he was already curled up on the couch watching Vikings. 

“Excuse me while I go sleep in your bed,” Scott grumbled as he stormed past the TV and threw himself onto the small bed in the corner of the room. 

Peter accepted the pair of sweatpants that Stiles held up, pulling them on before sitting down next to him. Smart man that he was, he didn’t say anything while his show was on. 

By the time the show ended, Stiles had his head resting against Peter’s bare chest and Peter was rubbing circles into his lower back. 

“Shouldn’t you eat something full of protein after so much blood loss?” Stiles whispered, mindful of the quiet snores coming from his bed. 

“Probably. I can think of something that we would both enjoy that would put some protein into my system,” Peter said quietly, maneuvering Stiles so that he could kiss at his neck. 

Stiles slapped his hand lightly against Peter’s chest.

“I’m being serious! That would have killed a normal person!” 

“Good thing I’m not normal, then,” Peter mumbled against his throat.

Stiles shivered as a potent wave of Peter’s scent washed over him, but stubbornly wiggled his way out of Peter’s death grip and slid onto the floor. Peter pouted down at him. 

“No, we’re getting you something to eat right now. Come on,” he said, standing up and grabbing his keys off the coffee table. 

Peter rolled his eyes but stood up, grabbing the keys out of Stiles’s hand and throwing them back on the table. 

“Fine, but we’ll take my car,” he said.

“What’s wrong with my baby?” Stiles asked, mildly offended.

Peter ignored him and walked out the door toward the small parking lot. Stiles whistled when he realized that Peter was heading towards a pristine Porche that looked very out of place in the cheap apartment complex.

“Can I drive?” Stiles asked hopefully. 

Peter just raised his eyebrows and ducked into the driver’s side. Stiles pouted for a moment but quickly forgot his discontent when his back hit smooth leather. 

“Damn, I wish I had leather interior,” he murmured as he pet the cool seat.

“It would be wasted on that hunk of junk you call a car,” Peter said, pulling onto the road. 

Stiles frowned, offended on behalf of his baby. 

“It has sentimental value,” he said.

Peter was silent but Stiles didn’t feel like elaborating so they rode in comfortable silence to the McDonald’s downtown. 

“Really?” Stiles asked, looking skeptically at the golden arches, “You think fast-food is what you need right now?”

Peter rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t think I need anything but you insist that I do so we can compromise with fast-food. Besides, it’s not like you were going to get anything.”

“I might’ve! I just would’ve played with it more than ate it,” Stiles said stubbornly. 

“Umhm,” Peter said, pulling up to the drive-thru and looking at the flashy menu.

He ended up ordering two cheeseburgers and fries off the dollar menu before parking around the back of the restaurant. Stiles watched him eat enviously. Sometimes he really missed being human. He used to love curly fries more than life itself. Now it all tasted like ashes on his tongue. 

“What’s it like being a werewolf?” Stiles asked suddenly. 

Peter glanced over at him and took a sip of a water bottle he had in the car before answering.

“I don’t know. I’ve never had anything else to compare it to,” he said. 

“You were born a werewolf?” Stiles asked, suddenly wondering if anyone had ever been born a vampire. 

Peter nodded and threw his trash in the McDonalds bag. Stiles hummed and looked at Peter thoughtfully.

“So your nephew was too I’m guessing? Is he your only family?” he asked. 

“Everyone else died in a fire,” he said, completely devoid of emotion. 

Stiles winced but didn’t bother apologizing. He always hated when people had apologized to him when they found out that his parents both died. 

He was lost in thought when Peter leaned over him and nipped at his lower lip playfully. His lips parted in surprise and a wet tongue slipped into his mouth. 

It took Stiles a minute to remember how to make his face work, but soon enough he moaned against Peter’s lips and wrapped his arms around his waist. He sucked hard on Peter’s tongue as he dragged his body against him as much as was possible in the tight space.

He felt safe being surrounded by so much warmth. The blood in his veins buzzed like it was trying to get back to Peter and Stiles had never been so aroused in his life. And that scent!

“Oh…god dammit…why do you smell so good?” Stiles moaned, rolling his hips up against Peter’s, shivering at the sensation the movement sent up his spine. 

Peter smiled against his lips and kissed him deeper in lieu of an answer. Stiles fumbled around the side of the seat until he found the right lever and reclined the seat as far back as it would go. 

Peter didn’t follow him down, instead shucking his shirt and working on his jeans. Stiles watched him with glassy eyes, feeling a tingle in his canines despite his recent meal. Everything felt so surreal, like this was all part of a dream. The overwhelming scent of Peter and arousal made his head fuzzy. 

“Peter, I know we’re in a car…again…but you really need to fuck me…like right now,” he said without even thinking about it. 

Peter paused in his ministrations and looked down at Stiles with a quirked eyebrow.

“Peter, for the love of god, fuck me. Please, please, please just fu…” Stiles was cut off by a hungry kiss. 

He moaned at the contact and wiggled out of his jeans and boxers, breaking the kiss only to pull his shirt over his head. Peter must’ve gotten his pants off at some point because when his hips pressed down, there was nothing but the delicious slide of skin on skin. 

Stiles lost track of time as they simply rutted against each other lazily. Whenever Stiles tried to pick up the pace, Peter held his hips down and ground down against his dick until there were tears in his eyes and his lips were wordlessly begging for more. 

When Peter finally slipped a spit-slicked finger past his perineum to rub at his clenching hole, there was already a small puddle of pre-cum gathered on Stiles’s stomach. 

“Please, Peter, please. I’ll do anything, please,” Stiles whined, grinding his hip back only to whimper when Peter moved his hand away. 

“Ah, ah. Only good boys get treats,” Peter said, his voice barely giving away the state of his arousal. 

Stiles groaned but remained still as Peter continued to tease his entrance. He was about to whine some more when Peter finally pushed two fingers in. Stiles opened his mouth in a silent moan, the burn fading almost instantly as Peter worked his fingers in and out in a parody of sex.

When he worked in a third finger, Stiles found his voice. 

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease fuck me, fuckmefuckmefuckme!” he chanted desperately. 

Peter chuckled and Stiles was about to yell at him for being such a fucking tease when the fingers slipped out of him only to be replaced but a blunt heat. 

“Yessss,” Stiles moaned as Peter slowly slid inside of him.

Peter was big, but not the biggest that Stiles had ever taken. Still, he had never felt so full in his life and he was weirdly devastated when Peter pulled back, even if it was just so that he could fill Stiles right back up again. 

“Nothing to say now?” Peter asked, slightly out of breath. 

Stiles clenched his ass to wipe the smirk off of his face.

“Shut up and fuck me harder,” he said, moaning as Peter brushed his sweet spot. 

Peter gladly complied and fucked him so hard into the car seat that Stiles didn’t doubt that he would have a couple of bruises that he wouldn’t be healing any time soon. 

Stiles felt his pleasure spiking just as the buzzing in his teeth became unbearable. Without thinking about it, he bit down hard on Peter’s shoulder, moaning as sweet blood rushed into his mouth. 

He felt Peter shiver before he felt his release deep inside of him. The taste and feel of Peter were too much and Stiles was tipping over the edge almost right after Peter. 

Stiles waited for the wave of pleasure to wash over him and for the aftershocks to stop racking his body before pulling his fangs out of Peter’s skin. 

He leaned back and looked apologetically at Peter who was inspecting his shoulder. 

“Sorry, I don’t know why, I just couldn’t help myself,” Stiles said quickly. 

Peter looked down at him and rolled his eyes before running his fingers through Stiles’s hair affectionately. 

“Stop apologizing, you’re killing my afterglow,” he said, collapsing on top of Stiles’s smaller frame. 

Stiles couldn’t help but laugh and they lay like that for about ten minutes before Stiles remembered that they were in a McDonald’s parking lot. 

“Um, maybe we should leave before we get arrested for public indecency?” he said. 

Peter sighed but sat up, pulling up his pants and throwing his shirt on mindless of the drying jizz on his stomach. Stiles quickly straightened his seat up when Peter crawled back over to the driver’s side and they drove back to his apartment in comfortable silence. 

When they got back, Scott was just waking up. 

“Mmhey. Did you guys…” he paused and sniffed the air, his face scrunching in disgust, “Oh my god, did you guys just literally bathe in cum? Is this going to be a thing now?”

Stiles looked at Peter and matched his smirk. 

“It’s not our fault you fell asleep and we got bored,” Stiles offered. 

Scott threw his hands in the air and walked past the two. 

“I’m leaving! Just take a shower before I see you tomorrow!” he said, mumbling all the way out the door. 

Stiles waved him off then looked up at Peter slyly. 

“We really should take a shower, you know,” he said. 

Neither of them left the apartment that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you see where I'm going with this? I'm a sucker for tropes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moar!!!

“Do you want my nachos?” Stiles asked, sliding his food toward Scott. 

“You didn’t even eat any,” Scott said, taking the food anyway and digging in.

“I don’t eat, remember?” Stiles replied, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, right. I don’t know why I keep forgetting that. It’s gotta suck right?” Scott asked. 

“Oh yes, it definitely sucks,” 

Stiles nearly jumped out of his seat at the familiar voice. He twisted around to see a petite black haired girl slide into the seat next to him. Her shocking blue eyes were lit with amusement. 

“Trisha, what are you doing here?” he hissed.

A similarly lithe young man slid into the space between Stiles and Scott. 

“Hey, Stiles, long time no see,” he said, glancing at Scott with narrowed eyes. 

“Um, Stiles? Who are these two…?” Scott asked hesitantly. 

Trisha offered a dainty hand.

“I’m Trisha Von Klepp, but you can call me Trish, and this is my twin brother, Trevor,” she said, shaking Scott’s hand when he slowly offered it. 

Scott looked at Stiles with wide, questioning eyes. Stiles scrambled for a way to get out of this situation. He had only just gotten Scott on the same page as him; he didn’t want to throw a curveball his way. 

“Scott, these are friends of mine who did me a huge favor a few years ago. I haven’t talked to them since and _I don’t know what the fuck they’re doing here_ ,” Stiles gritted out. 

“Oh relax, we’re not going to mess with your foray into humanity,” Trish said, flipping her hair.

“We just came for the show,” Trevor added, winking at a very uncomfortable Scott. 

“There is no show! That’s the point!” Stiles said, exasperated. 

Trish and Trevor exchanged a pointed look.

“You’ll see,” they both said at once. 

Stiles sighed and stood up only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. 

“No need to go, we were just leaving,” Trevor said standing up and patting Stiles on the shoulder. 

“It was lovely to meet you Scott. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you soon,” Trish said as the two walked away from the table. 

Scott and Stiles watched them leave. As soon as they stepped outside of the cafeteria, Scott whirled around and looked at Stiles questioningly. 

“I really don’t know why they’re here. They just show up sometimes claiming that they foresaw something significant in my future. Half the time they’re full of shit, but they don’t pose any serious threat to your pack. They don’t feed off of humans either,” Stiles said quickly. 

Scott tilted his head and looked towards the exit. 

“Ok, man. If you’re sure they’re not dangerous…”

“They were the ones who showed me I could live off of blood bags in the first place,” Stiles cut in.

“…then I’ll call a pack meeting and pass on the message. They’re still kind of jumpy so I think it’s going to take a lot of convincing on my part to keep them cool.” Scott finished. 

Stiles shook his head. 

“Maybe it’s better that they’re here. Strength in numbers and all that jazz. Maybe this will keep the pack from trying to kill me again,” he said. 

Scott pouted. 

“I told you they aren’t gonna,” he grumbled.

Appreciating the faith that he had in his own pack and not wanting to get into the argument for the third time that day, Stiles changed the subject. 

“Do you want to study for chem after school at the library? I am so not ready for that test.

Scott groaned.

“Oh my god, don’t remind me!” he whined. 

*** 

Stiles didn’t get home from the library until long after the sun had set. He was so exhausted from hunger and studying that he didn’t notice the figure sitting in front of his apartment door until he almost walked right into him. 

“Holy…What the fuck! What are you doing here?” 

Derek Hale, fully decked out in leather and looking like he wanted to be anywhere else, stood up slowly and glared at Stiles. Stiles took a large step back, getting ready to run if he needed to. 

Seeing the movement, Derek looked away and frowned. 

“I came to apologize,” he said, the words coming out more like a threat than an apology. 

Stiles relaxed his body slightly and pulled out his keys to let them both inside, mostly because if he didn’t get blood in his system right now he was going to pass out. 

“Come inside,” he said, unnecessarily apparently because almost before he finished the man was pushing past him into his apartment. 

He took a long look around the single room and Stiles felt weirdly self-conscious. 

“Um, do you want…water?” he asked, realizing that he still needed to go buy real food for when Scott came over. 

Derek shook his head and stood awkwardly in the center of the room. Stiles went straight for the fridge and pulled out one of his blood-bags. He hesitated before deciding ‘fuck it’ and sucking a large mouthful from the tube. 

“Is that always how you…feed?” Derek asked, dragging Stiles’s attention back to the brooding man standing in his living room.

He gulped down a little bit more blood before answering. 

“Yeah. It’s the least conspicuous way to get blood. Well, other than hooking up with drunk strangers but I stopped doing that years ago,” he answered, nibbling on the plastic. 

Derek nodded and looked down at the floor for a long moment before rolling his shoulders back and closing the distance between them quickly. Stiles reached behind himself for a knife but Derek stopped a few feet away. 

“What happened yesterday…my pack was worried. The last vampire that rolled through town killed Allison’s father so everyone had their hackles up when they realized you were settling in. Scott had assured us that you were no threat to the pack but I wanted to meet you for myself. I didn’t realize that Allison would react like that and after finding out about Peter…” Derek looked straight at Stiles, “I sincerely apologize for the behavior of my pack. I assure you, not only that it will not happen again, but that from now on you will be treated as a member of our pack for your relationship with Scott and Peter.”

Stiles gaped at the man apologizing in front of him. 

“I…there’s no relationship between me and Peter?” he ended up saying. 

An odd look crossed Derek’s face but it was gone before Stiles could even be sure he saw it.

“Either way, I hope you can give my betas a second chance,” Derek said. 

Stiles looked away for a moment, trying to remember something positive about anyone other than Scott and Peter and coming up with nothing. 

“I mean, I’ll try. I don’t usually get along with people who try to kill me. How about you don’t try and kill the other two vampires in town and I won’t be mad that your pack attacked me?” he asked. 

Derek stiffened slightly. 

“Other two vampires?” he asked slowly. 

Stiles winced. Maybe he should have left this up to Scott. 

“They’re friends of mine. They don’t drink from humans either and they’ll probably be more of a headache for me than for you,” he said.

Derek looked at Stiles thoughtfully for a moment. 

“Fine,” he said after a while, “There’s a pack meeting this Saturday morning. You bring your two friends and if I determine that they are not a threat then we can figure out a way to coexist for now.”

Stiles smiled, slurping his blood happily. 

“You know what? I like you. You’re not as grumpy as you look,” he said. 

As if to prove him wrong, Derek scowled and turned to leave. 

“Derek!” Stiles called just before he could walk out the door. He stopped and turned around slowly. “I’m bringing wolfsbane on Saturday just in case. I just wanted to let you know in case you smell it or whatever.”

Derek nodded quickly and left. Stiles drank the rest of his blood deep in thought before pulling out his cellphone and dialing without looking. 

“ _Yes?_ ” a smooth voice responded.

“Your nephew was just at my apartment,” Stiles said. 

“ _Oh? Should I be worried?_ ” Peter asked lightly. 

“Absolutely. I think I’ve fallen in love with his brooding demeanor. I must have a leather fetish,” Stiles said.

There was a growl on the other end and then the line went dead. Stiles smiled and hung up his phone. He unlocked the door and slipped out of his clothes, waiting for his werewolf to show up. 

*** 

“Seriously, what are you doing here?” Stiles asked for the millionth time. 

Trish looked at her brother and smiled mischievously. 

“We don’t want to ruin the surprise! Don’t worry, it’s a good thing,” she said. 

“Besides, we didn’t think you were actually stupid enough to come back to this town on your own. How did you not know about the werewolves? The Hales are well known for defending their territory,” Trevor said. 

Stiles shook his head and sighed. 

“I’m not into this whole supernatural thing like you two are. I never wanted this life; I just want to be a kid again for a little while,” Stiles whined. 

“Says the 47 year old vampire,” Trish mumbled. 

Stiles smacked her arm and she laughed behind her hand. 

“Relax Stiles, you can have your little fantasy life. We just have to behave ourselves,” Trevor said and Stiles groaned. 

“Oh my god, please don’t act like yourselves tomorrow,” Stiles whined. 

Trish took his hands in her own and looked at him solemnly. 

“I promise you that everything will probably be ok tomorrow,” she said. 

Stiles rolled his eyes and silently prayed that letting them stay wasn’t going to backfire on him. He slowly relaxed as the conversation turned to the twins’ travels and Stiles’s school experience. 

“Is Scott single?” Trevor asked after the conversation began to lull. 

This was definitely going to backfire on him. 

*** 

Stiles was so nervous on Saturday morning, driving over to Derek’s loft, that he actually felt like he was having a panic attack. 

“Stop breathing! Just stop breathing!” Trevor urged, rubbing circles into his back as he wheezed and panted.

“It’s in your head, Stiles, just stop breathing for a while and you’ll calm down,” Trisha said calmly from the driver’s seat, glancing at the two in the rearview mirror. 

Stiles forced himself to stop breathing and after a few minutes the stiffening panic passed over him. He blinked a few times at two pairs of electric blue eyes before realizing that they were already parked in front of Derek’s building. 

“Are you ready to go in now?” Trisha asked.

“Not gonna start puking up blood or anything?” Trevor threw in. 

Stiles glared at Trevor and slid out of his Jeep without responding. He didn’t think that he would panic again, but he didn’t complain when the twins came up on each side of him and hooked his arms. 

When they got to Derek’s apartment the door swung open before they even knocked. Scott smiled at them as he moved aside and they squeezed inside. Derek and Peter stood by the windows and both smiled at him. 

The rest of the pack sat silently on various pieces of furniture, not one of them looking at the newcomers in the room. Stiles felt a chill in his spine being here again. His whole body was alert, ready for fight or flight, but the two presences at his sides kept him from outright bolting. 

“Hello, children. I’m Trisha and this is my brother Trevor. I believe you know Stiles. You tried to kill him, if you remember,” Trish said when no one else spoke for a long moment.

The betas began to shift uncomfortably and Allison glared at her. Trish lit up and looked quickly at Stiles and Trevor. 

“You must be Allison,” Trevor said, “We’re sorry for the loss of your father, but we can assure you that we are not his murderer.”

Allison’s eyes widened and she looked away quickly. The blonde suddenly stood up, her boyfriend rising up slowly beside her. She walked up to Stiles and stared at him determinedly.

“I’m sorry for judging you before giving you a chance. I know what it’s like to be judged like that. Scott said you were cool so…this is me starting over. I’m Erica,” she said, offering her hand. 

Stiles stared at her in amazement, shaking her hand dazedly. 

“I’m Boyd,” the boy said. 

Stiles shook Boyd’s hand and the boy who had wolfed out on him rushed up as well. 

“My name’s Isaac,” he said sheepishly, “I’m sorry I attacked you. I was upset for Allison.”

Stiles shook his head, still not over the initial shock.

“It’s fine,” he said. 

Allison and Lydia were the only ones who sat behind. When the others stared them down, Lydia finally sighed and stood up. 

“You know who I am, but I guess I should apologize for being a little…chilly,” she said. 

Scott snorted and Lydia glared at him. 

“I’m not sorry that I shot you,” Allison said all of sudden. The room became very tense and everyone looked at her tense body, “I won’t do it again unless you give me a reason to, but I’m not going to apologize for attacking a monster.”

“Allison!” Scott yelled, distressed. 

Stiles should have felt insulted and unnerved, but something about the way she looked away made him think that it wasn’t personal. 

“I like you. You’re an Argent, right? Do you want to show me around town?” Trisha said while everyone else was frozen in shock.

That got Allison’s attention and she looked at the vampiress like she was crazy—which Stiles felt she probably was. 

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” Trevor offered helpfully. 

Allison shook her head in amazement but didn’t say anything.

“She would be happy to,” Derek said pointedly, looking sternly at Allison. 

“Oh lovely! But I want her assent, not her Alpha’s,” Trish said sweetly. 

Allison looked up at Trish with a mix of disgust and curiosity on her face. 

“Sure,” she grumbled and Trisha threw her hands in the air and spun around in joy. 

“Oh we’re going to have so much fun!” she said, completely ignoring the skeptical look that Allison shot her. 

That seemed to break the tension and soon everyone was talking, the wolves asking Stiles and the twins questions about vampires and Stiles asking them questions about werewolves and their lives. 

Trish kept gravitating toward Allison and Trevor stayed glued to Scott’s side the whole morning but all in all Stiles felt like the meeting was a success. Isaac was still pretty distant with him and Boyd was just very quiet but he and Erica hit it off really well. He was almost sad to leave when Peter suggested the two of them go get lunch. 

“Go, we’re fine here,” the twins had said in tandem when he asked if they wanted a ride home. 

Still, he was worried about leaving the twins alone with a werewolf pack and Peter had to half drag him out the door before he would move on his own. 

“So that went well,” Stiles said, still buzzing with nervous energy when they got into Peter’s car. 

“Indeed. In fact, I think you’re in a better position with those friends of yours to distract the pack than you were alone,” Peter replied. 

Stiles looked at him strangely. 

“You know, the more I’m getting to know you the more loose screws I’m seeing,” he said. 

Peter smirked.

“Well that’s certainly not something I can deny.”

Stiles laughed and smiled at the wolf.

“I’m really not one to judge though. I was kind of in a dark place when I first turned,” he said. 

Peter glanced curiously at Stiles but he didn’t ask so Stiles didn’t elaborate. 

They drove in peaceful silence for a while before Stiles started to get restless. 

“So where are we going?” he asked. 

“It’s a surprise,” Peter replied. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“You realize that I can’t eat, right?” he asked just in case. 

Peter made a noise of assent and continued driving down a deserted country road. 

Twenty minutes later and miles outside of any form of civilization, Peter pulled his car over to the side of the road. He got out and Stiles just sat in confusion, wondering if he was going to be murdered after all. 

Peter opened his door for him and held out a hand to help him up, his eyebrow raised when Stiles hesitated. 

“Oh come on, if I was going to kill you I would have done it already. Get out of the car,” he said. 

Stiles stuck out his tongue but took Peter’s hand and stepped onto the side of the road. 

“Ok, now what?” he asked skeptically. 

Peter grinned and his canines elongated and his eyes flashed blue just before he took off into the woods. Stiles laughed and chased after him, going slow so that Peter could lead the chase. They ran for a few minutes, stopping occasionally to tackle each other to the ground. 

When Peter finally stopped running, Stiles almost ran straight into him. 

“Holy crap! What are you…” 

Stiles trailed off as he took in the view from the clearing. The stream running alongside their path ended abruptly over a steep cliff. He could see for miles over woods and farmland, the crashing water sounding like a melody to his ears. 

“Peter, this is beautiful,” he said in awe. 

Peter smiled at him and walked closer to the edge of the waterfall before sitting down. 

“This is one of the places I go to think,” he said, glancing slyly up at Stiles, “or not to think.”

Stiles grinned and sat indian-style next to the wolf. 

“When I was living in Beacon Hills, I actually used to sneak onto the Hale preserve. There was an old, run-down shed I used to sit in when I needed some space, especially after my parents died,” he said. 

“I know,” Peter replied lightly.

Stiles raised his eyebrows and thought back to that time. 

“I guess you can’t hide much from werewolves. I do remember that someone stocked that shed with blankets and flashlights after a while. Was that you?” he asked. 

Peter shrugged and kept his eyes on the horizon. Stiles smiled to himself as he felt a surge of warmth rush through his system. Sitting here alone with Peter felt right on a level that was actually scary. Stiles didn’t want another relationship, he wanted to focus on himself, but Peter was like a drug. _My own personal brand of heroine_.

Peter watched with concern as Stiles doubled over in laugher, waving his hand vaguely to try to let him know that he was fine. He took big, gulping breaths as he tried to calm himself down and he groaned when he got a lungful of Peter’s scent. 

“What is it?” Peter asked curiously.

Stiles stopped breathing for a few moments but ended up sniffing the air again out of curiosity. He took deep lung-fulls of the addictive smell until he realized his face was pressed right up against Peter’s throat. 

He jumped back in embarrassment and searched for a good excuse. 

“Sorry, I, uh, I just thought I smelled something,” he said lamely. 

Peter tilted his head to the side, a small frown on his face. Stiles covered his face with his hands because he could feel the blood pooling in his cheeks. Almost immediately hands gripped his wrists gently and pulled his hands away. 

“That’s the second time you did that. Is my scent really that alluring to you?” Peter asked. 

Stiles wanted to face-palm again but Peter’s grip was firm on his wrists. 

“Um, yeah I guess. I’m sorry, I don’t know why…”  
Stiles was cut off when Peter pressed a hungry kiss to his lips. He lost track of why he should be embarrassed as he opened his lips for Peter’s probing tongue. Peter shifted closer until he was straddling Stiles’s hips and his hands slipped below Stiles’s waistband. 

Stiles moaned into the kiss and ran his fingers along Peter’s back and through his hair as they moved against each other. 

“This isn’t the most comfortable place to get it on,” Stiles said breathlessly as he pulled away from the searing kiss. 

Peter chased him with his lips, kissing and nipping at his jaw. 

“Are you asking me to stop?” he asked between kisses. 

Stiles groaned as Peter pressed his knee right against his groin, putting pressure on the hard-on trapped inside his jeans. 

“Fuck no,” Stiles said before lying flat on the dirt and dragging Peter down on top of him. 

Neither of them even bothered removing their clothing, simply rutting against each other and practically battling each other with their tongues. 

Stiles went over the edge first, gasping and shouting Peter’s name as he came in his pants like a teenager. It made him feel better when Peter followed suit only moments later. 

Stiles laughed as Peter rolled off of him and grimaced at the wet spot on his jeans. 

“Now I really feel like a teenager,” Stiles laughed. 

Peter grinned toothily and leaned over to taste Stiles’s lips languidly. 

“You smell good to me too,” Peter whispered against his lips. 

Stiles didn’t respond, just kissed him lazily, but Peter’s words stuck in his head and not for the first time in this town, he felt like he was missing something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love my vampire twins. I don't like Ethan and Aidan so they've been replaced by my OCs.


	4. Chapter 4

“Am I missing something important here?” Stiles asked one morning as he was getting ready to go to a pack meeting they had been invited to.

The twins didn’t even look up from what they were doing. 

“Yes,” they said in tandem. 

Stiles pouted. 

“I don’t suppose either of you are going to tell me what it is?” he ventured. 

If he expected a response he was sorely disappointed. Trisha flipped through the newspaper while her brother played with a rubix cube in silence. Stiles sighed. 

“I need a bigger apartment,” he mumbled. 

Trish stiffened all of a sudden and looked at her brother. Trevor tilted his head and met her gaze across the table. Feeling the sudden tension in the room, Stiles dropped the clothing he’d been picking up and walked over to the small table. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, well used to expecting the worst when the twins looked so serious. 

Trisha held up her hand to silence him and cocked her head to the side like she was listening to something. 

“We have a problem,” she said after a long moment. 

“We need to leave,” Trevor added, pushing away from the table and walking towards their still packed bags in the corner. 

“What, why do you need to leave?” Stiles asked, a bad feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. 

“Not us, all of us,” Trisha replied, moving to pick up some of Stiles’s things and tossing them in a suitcase she found in the closet. 

“What? No wait, slow down…” Stiles said, taking his things out of the suitcase even as Trisha added more. 

“We have five minutes,” Trevor called from the other side of the room. 

“Five minutes for what?” Stiles asked, getting frustrated. 

“To leave,” Trisha answered.

She closed the suitcase, somehow able to fill it despite Stiles’s best efforts, and grabbed Stiles’s wrist, dragging him toward the door. Stiles dug his heels in and jerked his arm out of her grip. 

“No! Stop! I’m not going anywhere until one of you tells me _what is going on_!” he shouted.

Trisha and Trevor exchanged a look and sighed almost in unison. 

“There’s a body in the woods,” Trevor said after a beat.

“There were multiple puncture wounds on her body,” Trisha continued. 

“Cause of death: exsanguination.”

The twins looked at him expectantly but Stiles’s head was still whirling.

“Did you…?” he asked. 

The two shook their heads. 

“It wasn’t a vampire,” Trisha said. 

“It was made to look like a vampire,” Trevor added. 

“So we’ll tell the pack…” Stiles started.

“They don’t trust you,” Trisha cut in. 

“Don’t trust us,” Trevor added. 

“Whatever did this wanted us to take the fall for it,” Trisha said.

“We have two minutes until the pack finds the body,” Trevor insisted.

“And reaches the obvious conclusion,” Trisha finished for her brother. 

Stiles closed his eyes. His thoughts were flying all over the place. He could barely process that this was really happening, but he had long ago learned to trust the twins’ visions. Grabbing his suitcase, he let the twins rush him to their car. He stared at the racing scenery go by as they sped out of town. He warred with himself all the way to the edge of town, then pulled out his phone and sent two texts. 

To Scott:  
 _Had to leave. Can’t explain rn, but I promise it wasn’t any of us._

To Peter:  
 _Call me when no one else can listen in_

Stiles hesitated before sending the second text. Logically, Peter was the least likely to turn him over to his pack considering his own position, but keeping in contact was still a risk. He hovered over the send button for a few minutes before just pressing it and hoping for the best. 

*** 

“It doesn’t count if you move the stickers,” Trisha mumbled. 

Trevor slammed his hand on the table, startling Stiles out of his thoughts. 

“Whoever invented this wanted to torture the common man. It’s _impossible_ ,” he said, throwing his rubix cube on the floor and slumping down in his chair with his arms crossed petulantly.

“You seriously had time to grab that stupid thing when we were running for our lives?” Stiles had to ask. 

Trevor pouted but didn’t respond. Stiles sighed and looked down at his phone for the hundredth time since settling down in the cheap motel room they were staying at. Trisha paid for everything up front in cash and Stiles had to wonder how long she knew they were going to have to beat a hasty retreat. 

“I’m hungry,” Trevor said suddenly. 

Stiles’s insides took the opportunity to remind him exactly how hungry he was. He clutched his aching stomach and licked at his gums where his fangs itched to come out. 

“Not my problem,” Trisha said blandly, flipping through her novel without looking up. 

“Trish,” Stiles whined. 

She sighed and placed the book face-down on the table.

“Trev doesn’t have foresight. Where I see forward, he sees backward. When we’re together it doesn’t really matter because we each see what the other does but while I’m gone consider yourselves running blind. Don’t let anyone inside and don’t make any stupid decisions, ok?” she said matter-of-factly. 

Stiles blinked at her then over at Trevor, who merely winked at him. 

“Um, ok? Do you want me to come with you?” Stiles asked.

“No. Oh, and Stiles,” she said, stopping before she could step out the door, “don’t answer your phone, ok?”

Before Stiles could even respond she was gone. He got up and started pacing around the small room. What could that mean? Maybe Scott was going to call or something and he shouldn’t answer in case he gave away their location?

Trevor watched him pace for a good ten minutes. Stiles would have been creeped out by his intense stare but he was almost immune to it at this point. 

“Do you think your father would have liked Peter Hale?” he asked suddenly. 

Stiles froze mid-step. 

“Why are you asking me that?” he asked nervously. 

Trevor shrugged, looking bored. 

“I guess I’m just curious. You two are very close after all,” he said. 

Stiles shook his head and continued pacing. 

“We’re not close. It’s just a fling,” he said.

It scared him how false those words sounded. 

“Umhm,” Trevor hummed before becoming absorbed in his phone. 

It couldn’t be true, could it? Stiles wasn’t really in a relationship. He didn’t need a relationship. He was still reeling after the last one. There was absolutely no way that Peter Hale wanted anything serious with him. 

He jumped at the trill of his cell phone. He walked over to see who was calling and, as if summoned, Peter’s name flashed on the screen. 

“Don’t answer the phone,” Trevor said without even looking up. 

Stiles scowled at him then glanced back down at the phone in his hands. Trish told him not to answer the phone, but then, he had been the one to ask him to call…

Just before the call could drop off Stiles flipped the phone open and pressed it to his ear. 

“ _Where the_ hell _are you_?” Peter growled before Stiles could even say hello. 

Stiles looked over at Trevor who was carefully ignoring him. 

“I can’t tell you but…”

“ _You’re going to tell me where you are_ right now _Stiles. Do you have any idea the mess you made by just skipping out like that after the pack found that body?_ ”

Stiles bristled at the harsh tone. 

“I’m not going to do _shit_ until you calm the fuck down!” he bit out. 

Peter was silent on the other end. 

“I don’t know what’s going on either, ok? This was the best I could do in the moment.”

“ _Well tell me where you are and I can come get you,_ ”

Stiles rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to throw his phone across the room. 

“No, Peter. If you want to help me, just deal with the pack and let me lay low until I know I’m not going to get ashed the second I show my face in Beacon Hills,” he said.

Peter sighed. 

“ _I wish you would trust me_ ,” he said. 

Stiles’s chest twisted. 

“I don’t even know you,” he said. 

“ _Stiles!—_ ” Peter’s voice cut off as Stiles dropped the call. He dropped his phone on the floor and flopped onto one of the two queen sized beds with a groan. 

“I told you not to answer the phone,” Trevor said after a long pause. 

Stiles threw a pillow at him and curled into a ball. Maybe if he stayed like this forever he wouldn’t ever have to deal with anything. No more werewolf packs. No more relationships. No more Peter Hale. 

***   
Stiles woke up to the smell of burning wood and wax. He sat upright and searched the room. Trevor was pacing back and forth with his cell phone pressed to his ear and there was smoke seeping in under the door. 

“Trev, what’s happening? I think we need to leave,” Stiles said, jumping off the bed and pulling the door open despite the skin he burned off on the door knob. 

As soon as the door opened a wave of smoke blew right into Stiles’s face and he stopped breathing so he wouldn’t go into a coughing fit. He tried to step out of the doorway but something stopped him every time he moved his feet. 

“Don’t bother, there’s mountain ash,” Trevor said quickly, pausing to redial.

“Who are you calling?” Stiles asked. 

“Trish. She never came back and now she’s not answering her phone…DAMMIT!” he shouted, throwing the phone across the room and breaking it. 

“Should we call the police?” Stiles asked, his mind reeling as panic set in. 

“And tell them what? ‘We’re trapped in a burning building can you please break the rowan circle?’ No. Unless Trisha gets here we’re screwed,” Trevor replied. 

Stiles closed his eyes and tried to think. The smoke wouldn’t do them any harm but once the flames got closer, they were goners. He really wished he hadn’t fought with Peter. A big part of Stiles cringed at the thought that those would be the last words he ever said to the man. 

Just as Stiles pulled out his phone to call Peter for help a brick came crashing through the window. 

“Holy…” Stiles started, rushing to look out the window. 

Scott, Peter, and Allison all stood in the parking lot below. The line of mountain ash, barely visible against the brick building, was broken under their window. Trevor peered over Stiles’s head before grabbing their bags and leaping out the window.

They were on the third floor and the fall would severely damage a normal human but when Stiles landed just beside Trevor he barely felt it. 

“Dude! Why didn’t you say someone was after you!” Scott said, running over to hug Stiles tightly. 

Stiles grunted in his tight grip. 

“I didn’t know,” he said, stepping back and looking at Allison. 

“Thanks for saving us. I mean, I know you probably didn’t want to,” he said.

Allison ignored him, looking at Trevor intently. 

“Where’s Trisha,” she asked. 

Trevor hissed. He looked like he was going to attack Allison just for bringing her up so Stiles leapt between the two. 

“Relax, I’m right here,” Trisha said. 

Everyone turned to see Trisha walking up to them from the edge of the parking lot. Her dress was covered in blood and she was limping slightly, but otherwise she looked well enough. Trevor ran up and embraced her for a long moment, holding onto her hand when she pulled away. 

“What happened to you?” Stiles asked. 

“Well I ran into our attacker. I took an arrow to the leg and kind of fell down a ravine. This isn’t my blood, it _was_ our dinner,” she said before turning to Allison, “Hello Alli, thank you for saving these two. You’re my hero.”

Allison shrugged her shoulder and looked away, but Stiles could have sworn that her cheeks had reddened. Someone clearing their throat drew Stiles’s attention away from Allison to Peter. The man looked completely normal and if he didn’t know any better, Stiles would say that he was bored. 

As it was, when Stiles followed Peter to his car, he dreaded the confrontation he knew was going to happen. As soon as the car door shut Peter turned on Stiles. 

“Do you have any idea how stupid this was? You’re my mate, you can’t just run off like…” 

“Wait, I’m your _what_?” Stiles interrupted. 

Peter was quiet as he realized what he said. 

“My mate,” he said quietly, “Why do you think I smell so good to you?”

Stiles thought it over. It was true that his attraction to Peter was weirdly strong, but mates? Like for life? That just sounded too good to be true. 

“Can we just take it one day at a time?” Stiles asked. 

“So long as you come to me next time there’s a problem instead of running off with your little vampire cohorts,” Peter responded. 

Stiles shrugged and that seemed good enough for Peter because he leaned over and kissed Stiles soundly. 

“Now what do you say we go hunting,” Peter said gleefully. 

Stiles was not as disturbed by his joy as he should’ve been.


	5. Chapter 5

“So I got a pretty clear scent of his blood when he attacked me. I also got a look of what I think is the motel he’s staying at while we were fighting so Allison and I will scope the area out and confirm his location,” Trisha said.  
Allison nodded solemly.

“Then Derek, Erica, Issac, and Peter will help you take him out. Scott, Stiles, Boyd and I will cover the perimeter to make sure he doesn’t escape,” Trevor added. 

“Shouldn’t we figure out why he’s doing this?” Stiles asked. 

Trevor and Trisha looked at each other strangely. 

“Stiles, do you remember how you first learned about vampires?” Trevor said. 

The memory was fresh in Stiles’s mind. He remembered almost dying himself before the family he’d been staying with found him. They had died, slowly and brutally. 

“Not all of them died,” Trevor continued as if reading Stiles’s thoughts, “They had a son at a sleepover that night.”

“Wait, Alex? Why would he try to kill me? Dimitri was the one who killed them,” Stiles asked. 

“Yes but you killed Dimitri so the only person left to lash out at is you,” Trisha said. 

“It’s not logical, it’s human,” Trevor added. 

Stiles shook his head. 

“No, we can’t do this. I want to talk to him,” he said. 

“Stiles, he tried to kill you already, are you sure this is a good idea?” Scott asked. 

“It’s not,” Peter said. 

Stiles glared at Peter before gaging the pack’s reaction. 

“Hear me out. I’ll go in with Allison and Trisha, that way we have someone resistant to mountain ash or whatever supernatural bullshit Alex is going to throw at us. I’ll try to talk to him and if he won’t listen, we’ll go with the original plan and bring the rest of the pack in,” he said. 

“That’s a terrible idea,” Trevor said after a tense moment of silence. 

“I’ll do it,” Trisha said and Trevor glared at her.   
“Me too,” Allison chimed in, smiling slightly at the beaming vampiress. 

“We’ll do it your way, Stiles, but the pack will be right outside,” Derek said decisively. 

Peter scoffed and Stiles elbowed him hard in the stomach. 

“I’m going with you,” Peter said after coughing. 

“The more the merrier,” Trisha said cheerfully. 

The group continued to plan out the night and Stiles pulled Peter to the side. 

“You’re not being very supportive here _mate_ ,” Stiles said sarcastically. 

“You’re being weirdly stubborn about someone who tried to kill you,” Peter hissed. 

“His entire family was murdered! A family, I might add, who went out on a limb for me and paid for it with their lives!” Stiles hissed back. 

“GET A ROOM!” Erica shouted playfully. 

Stiles threw his hands in the air and dragged Peter out of the loft to the sound of catcalls. 

“You know I’m right,” Peter said once they reached the parking lot. 

“Yes! Is that what you want to hear? You’re right, I’m wrong. I’m still going to try to talk to him,” Stiles said, frustrated. 

“Fine,” Peter said calmly, “Just know that the second this man tries something I’m ripping his throat out with my bare hands.”

Stiles looked dumbly at the calm look on Peter’s face before laughing. 

“Come on creeper wolf let’s get you some dinner,” Stiles said after a moment, sliding into Peter’s Porsche.

“I’m more for dessert to be honest,” Peter said lasciviously.

Stiles tried to laugh but he got too distracted by warm lips on his. 

***

“Room 221,” Trisha said after scenting the crisp evening air. 

“That’s weirdly specific,” Allison said. 

“Yes, well, he checked in with his real name so…” Trish replied with a wink. 

Stiles and Peter followed closely behind the two women as they silently closed in on the room in question. Stiles could hear faint movement behind the door and he braced himself for the worst. 

Trisha and Allison slid to the side of the door as Peter stepped right in front of it. He looked at everyone to make sure they were ready before kicking the door straight off its hinges with a sickening crack. 

Allison went in first, her cross-bow drawn and ready. Trisha followed her and Stiles heard a brief struggle that ended very quickly. Peter followed the girls in and Stiles came in the rear. 

There were chairs overturned and a shocked-looking middle-aged man sat sprawled on the floor at Allison’s feet. 

“You shot me, you know. That’s not very nice,” Trisha said solemly. 

Allison visibly tensed and Stiles rushed forward before she could get trigger-happy. 

“Alexander you remember me, yes?” he asked. 

The man looked at Stiles and scowled, spitting on the ground. 

“You realize that I didn’t kill your family right? I would have died first. Technically I did,” he said. 

“Bullshit! You ran off with the monster who murdered my family after everything they did for you! I spent years tracking him and planning my revenge and you _killed him first!_ ” the man spat, “You’re just as much of a monster as he is though. He wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for you!”

Stiles shook his head, unsure of how to make this right. 

“He didn’t kill your family. There are monsters out there but he’s not one of them,” Allison said suddenly. 

Alex rounded on her.

“What the fuck do you know about it?” he asked. 

“A vampire killed the last of my family and it’s easy to become consumed with revenge, but this isn’t the revenge that your family wants,” Allison said. 

“The fuck do you know?” Alex asked, grabbing Allison’s crossbow and whipping it around to face her. 

Before Stiles could even react, Alex was on the ground, his neck snapped to the side, and Trisha was standing over his body with a frown on her face. 

“Are you ok?” she asked Allison. 

Allison looked at the body on the ground then pouted back at the vampiress. 

“I had it under control,” she said. 

“Of course you did! You’re my hero, remember?” Trisha said sweetly. 

“What just happened?” Stiles asked.

“I think that our dear little hunter has ironically fallen for the lethal vampire,” Peter said quietly. 

Trisha smiled brightly and Allison whirled around to stare down Peter. 

“Fuck you, Peter,” she said before storming out of the room. 

“Good call coming back to this town, Stiles. I think I’m going to stay for quite a while,” Trisha said as she rushed out after Allison. 

Stiles frowned at Peter. 

“We probably shouldn’t just hang out at a murder scene,” he said. 

Peter smirked and wrapped his hand around Stiles’s. 

“Shall we?”

***

“So, this whole thing has been about me being Peter’s mate?” Stiles asked. 

“I don’t know what took you so long to figure it out,” Trevor said. 

“You were the last to know,” Trisha added. 

“Huh. So is that what’s going on here?” Stiles asked. 

Trevor lay with his head in Scott’s lap, playing with a new rubix cube. Allison and Trisha sat huddled together on the floor, looking at a hunting catalogue. 

“Um, what? No,” Scott said, turning red. 

“I don’t like vampires,” Allison said dispassionately. 

“Okay then. I’m just…gonna let it slide,” Stiles said slowly. 

His phone buzzed and he checked his messages. 

From Creeper Wolf:

_Your apartment or mine?_

Stiles smiled and typed his answer before grabbing his keys and waving goodbye to the others. 

_Yours_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far! I hope you enjoyed the story!

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on [tumblr!!!](http://nightshadekisses.tumblr.com/)


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